Excitable and nervous, Kenneth Danby has a history of bi-polar disorder. He has responded well to the Lithium salt treatments, though he feels that they make him less mentally acute.

While Kenneth's demeanor may vacillate, his intellect is a constant source of comfort for the lieutenant. Danby's abilities as a biochemist are apparently quite extraordinary and his status as a Makine scholar has qualified him for access to the lab here in Alaska. That could be a blessing or a curse, depending on how things play out.

Lt. Danby hides behind his scientific prowess, analyzing the data without internalizing his role in this whole procedure. He thinks that if he can maintain some sense of control, that it could change his fate. Maybe he's right, but I fear that the opposite is true.

When I informed Kenneth that he would not be the subject of this week's test, his response was oddly cool. He simply asked if he could help administer the shot and study the resulting effects.

How someone so intelligent could not understand the immense conflict of interest presented by such a scenario is baffling. He is trying to reason his way through Project Abraham. I don't blame him, but I do worry about him.

Kenneth digested every scrap of information about the last experiment like a starving animal. If he doesn't learn, he suffers.

Because of the long hours that the lieutenant has been spending in the lab, his energy level was low. No time to discuss his state of mind when there's work to do, right? Wrong. It's like a snake that keeps eating itself - the hunger may subside, but there's a far bigger pain in store once the meal is over.

I did manage to learn a bit about Kenneth's time at Princeton. It seemed to give him a momentary expression of pride. Hopefully, that will carry him through the week.

Kenneth continues to display shocking levels of denial and detachment - the strange part is, he shrouds these defense mechanisms behind several layers of reasonal pragmatism. He wants to help more and more in the lab. He toils for days on end, searching for the answers that have eluded his colleagues and his captors the scientific staff here in Alaska. He doesn't sleep, barely eats, and his nightmares haunt him, even during the daylight.

It's hard to decide if Danby better serves the project as a subject or as a researcher. The others have become a particular group unto themselves. They are the focus of all our attention, but unlike everyone else in the compound, they have nothing to do. Danby is the exception and this gives him a different status among the survivors. They see him as someone who has some information - which is true, even if it isn't exactly the information they want. (They are, of course, trying to determine who will be picked next.) Still, he is in the lab, and they are desperate for anything he can tell them.

When I told Kenneth he was not chosen, he asked me who was, then - he wants to think of his fellow soldiers as test subjects instead of contemporaries. I told him I couldn't say who had been selected until I had spoken with everyone. I asked how he was doing with the amount of stress he was under. He said that the work was helping and the lithium was doing its job. He asked if I could recommend a reduction in his dosage. He said he thought it made him a bit dull. I said I would speak to the doctor. But that given the nature of his work in the lab, he would have to give me his word that he would inform either me or the doctor if he felt as if his mood swings were returning. He agreed. He is aware that he is dealing with the uncertainty of all this by concentrating on the lab, but as he said to me, 'Is that so bad?'

I've never seen Darby so distracted. He keeps jabbering about proteins and enzymes to avoid discussing his emotions. In a way, I envy his lack of focus; the alternative is to dwell on the experiments and their horrible failures thus far.

So, he sits and talks about science - anything to veer the subject off of his own involvement. And the more he talks, the less assured he is. Going in circles, endlessly deliberating every imaginable permutation of numbers, control data and chemical configurations, Kenneth tires himself out as he speaks. It's like a cat playing with a mouse before killing it. But am I the cat to his mouse?